


minho's secret

by chisomo



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Bullying, Fluff and Angst, HufflePuff!Jisung, M/M, Mentioned Lee Felix, Slytherin!Minho, Slytherpuff, yeah this was stuck in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 03:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15283086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chisomo/pseuds/chisomo
Summary: If Minho had just kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.Well- and if Jisung had just kept his mouth shut, then at least they probably wouldn't be in detention.Probably.





	minho's secret

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first stray kids fic and I really just needed to write an HP crossover with my boys because that's all I can think about nowadays...pls comment any thoughts or suggestions if you think I should make this into a series with the rest of skids!

If Minho had just kept his mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

It’s just that- well. The underclassmen are getting cockier every year, it feels like. More and more prideful of their Slytherin heritage and unquestionably _pure_ blood- and much more vocal about that pride, too.

And so maybe Minho was tired of it, alright?

Tired of walking through the common room every day and pretending not to hear the younger students’ raised voices about how many Galleons their allowance was or how many generations of their family had gone to Hogwarts, tired of the suspicion in their eyes when they looked at him and his threadbare sweaters-

(his stomach clenched sickeningly in response every time, because even if he had an allowance, it would be in won- not Galleons. And exactly zero generations of his family had gone to Hogwarts, because Minho was the first one ever, and his sweaters were threadbare because that’s all he could afford, and-)

Yeah, fucking tired of all of it.

So really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. This was bound to happen at some point- sooner or later.

_God, why couldn’t it have been later, though?_

His first mistake had been to stay in the library.

Minho was engrossed in his Potions textbook ( _yes,_ he was a total Potions nerd- shut _up,_ Changbin) when the sound of several haughty voices nearby had dragged him up from the finer details of healing potions, just in time to hear: “God, did you see that second year Hufflepuff today in Muggle studies? He actually thinks Muggles are interesting, it’s hilarious.”

“Probably because he’s practically a Squib, have you seen him try to Transfigure a goblet? It’s like watching a flobberworm try to do magic- fucking pathetic.” Peals of laughter sounded in response, and Minho tried very hard to think about the disadvantages of murder.

That was where he should have left, should have packed up his books and walked right out of there. But of course- he didn’t.

Instead, Minho was prepared to just grit his teeth and ignore them with all his might, until- “He always has that stupid-ass smile on his face, too! Does he think his braces are cute or something? Yang Jeongin, seriously- what a poor excuse for a wizard. I can’t believe he’s not a muggleborn.”

_Jeongin-_

-big eyes and a bigger smile on his face all the time, even when he didn’t fucking feel like it, and never agreeing with the popular stories about how all Slytherins were inherently evil, and _Jisung’s younger brother,_ and-

That’s it- Minho was officially done with this bullshit.

He slammed his book closed and shot to his feet in the same instant, the resounding _thud_ as he dropped the book on the table echoing throughout the quiet library as the group of students turned to look at him.

And so began his second mistake.

Minho strode over to them, taking comfort in the fact that he was a _sixth_ _year_ and they were _third years_ and his features were sharp enough to be intimidating when he wanted them to be, and- yeah, he’s definitely taller than all of them, too.

A little more confident with all of that in mind, he came to a stop in front of their little circle, arms crossed and eyes dark. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than pick on other Houses? Seriously, it’s Slytherins like you who give our House a bad name. And if you hadn’t noticed, we’re in a library. Shut up and try not to be such dicks all the time, yeah?”

 And with that, he turned around to get his book and retreat to literally anywhere that wasn’t there, but before he could walk away- “And who are you to tell us what to do, _sunbaenim?”_ The honorific was dripping with sarcasm, and Minho couldn’t help his shoulders tightening in anger.

Taking a deep breath, he spun back around and glared at the little group. “I’m your senior, that’s who. Three years older than all of you, to be exact, and I’m telling you to close your damn mouths.” That should have been the end of it, should have been their cue to bow and apologize, or at the very least their cue to shut the hell up.

But, of course-

Minho’s life hardly ever went the way it was supposed to go.

“Well, that’s funny.” The boy who spoke before rose to his feet, blue eyes glittering with dark humor. “Because I don’t take orders from the likes of _you.”_

Something twisted in Minho’s gut, nauseating and painful- _how does he know how does he know how does he know-_ and the boy smirked slowly at the stricken look in Minho’s eyes. “It’s not like it was hard to figure out, _sunbaenim._ None of the old Wizarding families have the name Lee, for one.”

He turned to grin at all of his snickering friends before his cold gaze fell upon Minho once more. “Well…that, and we overheard your friend Lee Felix talking about how _lucky_ he is to have another Muggleborn hyung who he can look up to…how nice of you to be there for him, sunbae.”

Minho’s heart stopped.

_Oh god they know they know-_

_I am the only muggleborn in Slytherin._

_No one was supposed to know-_

 

His silence only made them laugh harder, echoing throughout the bookshelves around them and _why hadn’t the librarian come to yell at them yet_ and Minho could feel his face turning red with embarrassment- _god this was horrible._

The sight of his deepest secret laid out before him- all the rotten fear and ugly shame now out in the open- was enough to make Minho’s stomach roil. He couldn’t turn away, couldn’t escape, couldn’t hide- and that’s when the boy said it.

“No comeback for that one, huh? Poor, dirty little _mudblood.”_

_Dirty little mudblood-_

Minho’s hands were shaking.

He was frozen in place, that word echoing in his ears over and over again-

_Mudbloodmudbloodmudbloodmudblood_

 

“Wait, what the fuck did you just say to him?”

_Oh, god no-_

Minho squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that he was mistaken, prayed that wasn’t Jisung’s voice he had just heard, prayed for a hole to appear in the floor and swallow him up, most of all. Unfortunately, God seemed to hate him- because none of those things happened.

And if he was being honest, Minho could recognize Jisung’s voice anywhere- so when he managed to open his eyes and saw the fourth year boy standing before him, he wasn’t really surprised.

Just as in so many other situations when Jisung became involved, things only escalated from there. 

“I fail to see how any of this is your business, Han Jisung-sunbaenim,” said the third year boy who had spoken earlier, eyes cold as they took in Jisung’s perpetually windswept hair and tousled Hufflepuff uniform. “It is my business when I hear someone using that term, especially towards one of my friends,” Jisung replied angrily, hands clenching into fists.

Minho’s hands were still shaking. “It’s fine, Jisung,” he said quietly, straining to keep his voice steady. The Hufflepuff turned to gape at him, cheeks already red as his anger rose. “What the hell, hyung? It’s not fine, not at all!” The third year boy scoffed, “Oh, what do you care? You’re not muggleborn- why are you defending him?”

_Oh, shit._

Jisung’s head snapped back towards the third year, the rest of his body suddenly going very still. “I’m going to give you one chance to apologize,” he said quietly. Minho’s eyes went wide because a quiet Jisung almost never meant anything good, and he tried in vain to diffuse the situation.

This was the angriest he had ever seen Jisung- normally quick to laugh and quicker still to make a joke, the fourth year was now practically vibrating with outrage, his knuckles white as they clenched around his wand. Anxiety skittered through Minho’s nerves- an emotional Jisung was a reckless Jisung, and _I can’t let him get hurt-_

“Jisung, it’s _fine,_ seriously-” Minho tried again. “Apologize? To a mudblood? No way,” the third year broke in, laughing with the rest of his little group.” _Shit shit shit-_ Minho reached for Jisung, but he was too late. The fourth year strode ahead of him, snarling, “You just wasted your chance.”

And with that, Jisung was lifting his wand and shouting out, “ _Furnunculus!”_ A pained cry shot through the library as purple boils began to swell all over the third year’s face, and Minho could only look on in horror, frozen. Jisung was still shaking with anger in front of Minho, brandishing his wand at the other third years.

“Anyone else?” he said threateningly, and the way the rest of the group immediately shook their heads in terror would have been funny if there hadn’t been a screaming kid with boils all over his face in front of them and a detention for fighting in the library looming on the horizon.

“Jisung, you need to _go,_ oh my god you’re going to get a detention please go please-” Minho said frantically as the librarian appeared in his line of sight, already looking furious. Jisung turned around and frowned at Minho, “You think I’m leaving you alone to deal with this? Hell no.”

Minho grabbed his arm, “Jisung-ah, please- I don’t want you to be put in detention. I’m very grateful for your help but you need to leave, _now._ Hyung will be fine, don’t worry.” Jisung shook his head. “Nice try, hyung, but I’m not leaving you.” And with that, he proceeded to sling an arm around Minho’s shoulders and waved cheekily at the fast-approaching librarian.

Minho groaned, “You’re going to kill me one of these days, Sungie, seriously.” Jisung only grinned at him, “Good thing I’m your favorite dongsaeng anyways, right?” Within the next moment, both boys’ ears were filled with the librarian’s screeching as she simultaneously scolded them and tried to calm down the third years.

 

That night found both boys elbow deep in suds as they scrubbed cauldrons in detention.  After a long stretch of silence, Minho finally turned to Jisung. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Thanks for- you know.” Jisung set down his cauldron, eyes careful as they took in Minho’s features. “Of course, hyung. I just wish I had gotten there earlier.”

Minho shook his head, his hands clenching the sides of the cauldron. “I just- I was fine, until they…said that word. I-I don’t know what was wrong with me.” He smiled wryly at Jisung, “What a good hyung, right? Got his dongsaeng in detention just because he couldn’t ignore a group of third years…”

Jisung sighed, “No offense hyung, but what the fuck? They were being total asshats and I don’t regret a single thing. Detention is so worth the looks on their faces when I cursed that one kid.” He was quiet for a moment, before turning to Minho again.

“You know they’re wrong, right? Your blood isn’t- it’s not dirty, not at all.” Minho could only nod in response. He knew that, it was just-

_Mudblood-_

“Hyung?” Minho drew in a deep breath and turned to smile at Jisung. “I know, Sungie. Thank you.” Jisung’s eyes narrowed, not totally convinced (sometimes it was a real hazard, having Jisung as the only person Minho could never really lie to) but he eventually returned to scrubbing his cauldron.

Minho stared at the soap- filled cauldron before him, waves of shame still stirring inside him. Sometimes he wished he was more like Jisung- confident around new people and quick to act on his feet- but today had only proved he was still the same old Lee Minho who froze up when he got nervous.

_Mudbloodmudbloodmudblood-_

Lost in his thoughts, Minho startled when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, but the undeniable scent of Jisung hit him next and he relaxed. Lemon soap and laundry detergent and _Jisung_ surrounded him as the boy tightened his arms around Minho.

“I can hear you thinking unhappy things,” came a small muffled voice as Jisung pressed his head into Minho’s shoulder. Smiling in spite of himself, Minho wrapped his arms around the fourth year, the anxiety that was swelling in his bloodstream gradually receding.

“Jisung-ah,” he exhaled, lowering his head to breathe in the scent of Jisung’s dark hair, forever messy and lemon-scented. Jisung hummed in response, his face still buried in Minho’s shirt. “Hyung is sorry,” Minho said finally, and Jisung finally pulled away from him, their eyes meeting.

“You don’t have to apologize, hyung. Just- don’t be so hard on yourself, alright? Promise me.” Minho dragged Jisung back in his arms, smiling as he made a squeak of surprise but didn’t resist otherwise. “Alright, I promise.”

_I promise-_

“This is probably a good time to tell you that I told Chan you would go flying with him,” said the boy in Minho’s arms.

“ _What?”_ Minho pulled Jisung away from him to glare at the smirking Hufflepuff. “Why would you do that? You know I hate flying!” Jisung grinned sheepishly, “Sorry?” Minho growled at him and Jisung batted his eyelashes innocently, “Let’s go back to the part where you said I was your favorite dongsaeng, don’t you remember that?”

Minho scoffed, “I literally never said that.” Jisung pouted, “But hyunnnggggg-” Minho rolled his eyes, “You know acting cute doesn’t work on me, quit it.” Jisung just pouted more and Minho laughed at him, “C’mon, we have to finish washing these cauldrons.” Jisung turned to look at the still soapy cauldrons and then back at Minho, eyes glinting mischievously.

Minho was suddenly a bit terrified.

“Say I’m your favorite dongsaeng,” Jisung threatened. “Or what?” Minho asked, albeit a bit nervously. Jisung grinned evilly and reached slowly into his cauldron, withdrawing a giant fistful of soap suds. “Or this…”

“Jisungie, _no-!”_

The soap suds went flying.

Half an hour later, both boys sank to the now wet ground, still laughing breathlessly. “Truce, please-god,” Minho gasped, grinning in spite of himself. Jisung laughed, eyes bright as they took in the soapy mess that was now the washroom. “Fine, I know I’m your favorite anyway,” he shrugged.

“Keep dreaming,” Minho said cheekily, and Jisung stuck his tongue at him.

_Yeah, he’s totally my favorite dongsaeng._

  _Mudblood_ had finally stopped echoing in Minho’s ears, pushed out by the sound of Jisung’s laughter and water sloshing onto the floor. He reached out a hand to where Jisung was slumped next to the sink, still grinning. “I know I already said this, but thank you Sungie.”

Jisung smiled directly at him, dark eyes glowing with happiness in the dim light as he grasped tightly onto Minho’s hand. “Anything for my second favorite hyung.”

_“Second favorite?!”_


End file.
